


Interlude

by Neosiuss



Series: For better, for worse. [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Also mentions of terrorism, Established Relationship, Guns, M/M, Mentions of Death, Omnic Crisis, On a mass scale, One-Shot, Vague, Vague PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9296063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neosiuss/pseuds/Neosiuss
Summary: Gabriel Reyes understands the spoils of war, but he hopes Jack doesn't have to find them out so quickly. A quick one-shot of the omnic crisis, part of a multi-part/chapter fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello we are not dead. We've been.... sitting on this for a while. We both recently graduated and shit so life got suuuuper busy. Anyway! We didn't wanna write a huuuuge part of the omnic crisis, but it's still pretty important. So here you are! uuuh its not great and im sorry my brain is fried tbh

War is literal. Hell. Sure--the base is nice. Gibraltar, right on the edge of the Mediterranean. They can see the sea, and Gabe realizes he missed the ocean while he was at SEP. They're given separate quarters, unsurprisingly. Gabe's a Commander, now. He gets the bigger, better quarters. No one needs to know that Jack's bunk is wholly unslept in, and his roommate is more than thrilled to have the room to himself. They're on base a whole week, enough to brief and acquaint themselves with every and get used to the time change before they're shipped off to the front lines. It goes smoothly, and Gabe kisses Jack hard out of excitement when they get back. It goes like that for a few months until shit starts to get real; cities are falling faster than the army can help them.

From the intel dropped on his desk, Gabe thinks it’s an easy mission. The National Guard is making a good stand, keeping the advancing bastions away from the city and the civilians holed up inside. Evac from the countryside to the city, what a terrible idea. Causes overcrowding and more panic, but keeps civilians alive and out of harm’s way. At least until the bastions get smart and realize what the US is doing. Gabe has _gently_ suggested to the General that they pull back from the front lines and wait for reinforcements.

Apparently, his advice comes too late. They’re in the air an hour when the first call comes over the radio. It’s static, the white noise behind filled with gunfire and shouting people.

“Commander Reyes--! Bastions broke through the front line! They’re mowing us down and we can’t stop them!” It’s not the general on the line, but some other soldier that Gabe will never be able to put a name or face to. He grits his teeth.

“Hold strong. You’re the last buffer between the bastions and civilians. Any EMPs left?”

“Negative, threw them all into what we thought was the core of the units. Obviously, that didn’t work.”

“No shit. Got an ETA on those tin cans?”

“No idea. Fifteen?”

 _Shit_. Jack gives him a sympathetic look and Gabe pretends he doesn’t see. More casualties he can’t avoid.

By the time transport touches down, the city is almost leveled. Debris crunches under his boot as he steps off the plane and the air feels thick but thin at the same time. Jack climbs out after him, followed by the rest of the squad, all in a silent reverie.  They failed their one job, to stop the bastions and save the city. Gabriel feels Jack shift behind him, ready to say something stupid, and Gabe cuts him off before he can start.

“Sweep the area. There’s still units around. We’ll move through, make camp halfway into the city. We still gotta take them out.” The rifle is heavy in his hands, almost as heavy as the weight of all the bodies surrounding them. Gabe keeps his eyes on the horizon, sweeping for movement. Jack walks behind and to his left, and Gabe can feel those baby blues boring a hole into the back of his neck.

He shoots a look over his shoulder and catches Jack’s eye. They speak through looks; Jack inquiring to Gabe’s status, and Gabe simply staring blankly before returning his gaze to its duty. The city is deserted, the sweep is pointless. But it’s standard procedure. They make it through half of the city when the sun starts to set, casting long shadows that play tricks with Gabriel’s mind.

He tells them to set up, though it’s only a few sleeping bags. The stars give them enough light once the sun sets, the blaring lights of the city gone forever now. It’s suffocating, the starlight and the silence. Gabe leaves, unannounced, but knows he’s being followed. Half a mile from their set up he turns, face to face with Jack Morrison. The sigh that leaves him is tired.

“There are no survivors, Jack.”

“You don’t know that,” his voice is quiet, comforting. It makes Gabe feel sick. “They could be hundred, maybe, holed out in buildings, waiting for someone to rescue them.”

 _So goddamn hopeful._ “No, Jack, there aren’t. Omnics are thorough, calculating. They have no mercy because they weren’t programmed to have it. No captives, no survivors. Just. Destruction.” A hand lifts to run through his hair but he shoves off his beanie instead, not caring as it drops to the floor. He doesn’t look Jack in the eye. “I’ve seen this before, Jack. Happened in South Sudan, terrorist cell wiped out an entire city, no survivors. Cold blood.”

“But—“

“ **No**. I’m sorry, Jack. I’m calling the airstrike tomorrow.”

“Gabriel.” All concern is gone from Jack’s voice, and Gabe finally looks him in the eye. They’re hard, determined. “One more sweep. You have a choice—“

Gabe barks a laugh and shakes his head, turning from Jack. Choice, funny. He’s new to the military, he doesn’t know how it works. Gabe gets the shiny title and the nice badge but he still doesn’t get to make the decisions.

“Yeah, choice. Listen, blondie, doing that is just giving the omnics more time to come in and kill _us_ , or move on to the next populated area. We know their strike patterns, we can stop them here in their tracks before the leave.”

They go back and forth for what seems like hours, Gabriel getting more and more frustrated the more Jack pleads with him, the more idealistic he seems to get. He just doesn’t _understand_ and it’s so maddening. Gabe doesn’t remember shouting, but he sure doesn’t miss the way Jack’s shoulders hunch and his tail seems to go between his legs. _Too far, Reyes._

“Fine. Just. Fine. One sweep, spread out. I’ll call the colonel tomorrow for the evac.”

Jack’s eyes almost light up, but he still looks put out. Gabe doesn’t care. He’s tired. Jack doesn’t see what happens in the paperwork, doesn’t get to see the actual casualty counts, civilian and brethren. Jack asks him to come back to camp, the sun will be up in a few hours and they need to sleep. Gabe tells him to head back, he’ll be there soon.

He gets back to camp as the sun is rising. Jack doesn’t say anything to him and he doesn’t say anything to Jack. The call is put in for the evac, and Jack claps a hand on his shoulder as a soft thank you. Gabe gets reamed by the colonel; it’s not in the job description.

“No, but I have a solid lead on a few survivors. Gotta get them out before the airstrike.”

They find twenty civilians all together. Some are kids, some are adults, all have fear in their eyes and on their faces. They won’t be the same. If there are any more, they’re under rubble or underground. They’re running out of time. Jack’s face is full of unease and pity. Gabe doesn’t say anything to him, just lets their hands bump for a moment. He looks Jack in the face, apology on the tip of his tongue, but calls for the airstrike. Transport picks them up the next day.

Jack sits next to Gabe silently, staring at his folded hands. Gabe is just as quiet, head leaned back against the cold metal of the plane. Their knees rest against each other, a silent affirmation that the other understands. They were never much for sappy words, anyway.

The move earns Gabe a thumbs-up from the higher-ups and he takes it. The missions get harder and harder, but they still fall into the same bed and talk like nothing is happening, like the world isn’t falling apart around them. Gabe hopes he’ll wake up and they’ll be back in SEP, groaning at the blare of the wake up call.

He never wakes up.

LA falls and it’s broadcast worldwide. Gabe wasn’t there to see it. He watches, stoic, with the other men. They’re all quiet, each with a beer. No one speaks for fear they might shatter the fragile strings holding themselves together. His mother and sisters got out but his father, ever the stubborn asshole, stayed. He doesn’t have to speak to his mom to understand no survivors means just that. Jack coaxes Gabe into their room and, once the door is shut, he breaks.

Jack’s never seen him cry before, and Gabe’s certain this is the first time he’s cried since high school. But the doors shut and Gabe feels all the air leave his lungs, like he’s been punched in the gut. He takes a breath to gage if his lungs still work proper but it freezes in his chest. It must have been loud because Jack turns, concerned, and when he speaks he sounds muffled, like he’s speaking through a wall. Gabe’s eyes are wide, wet, and his knees buckle from underneath him.

He’s not sure who lets out the shout when he hits the floor, but he knows someone shouts and then he just _sobs_ . He can’t catch his breath; every heave of his chest is shaky and painful. He cries for his father, for his family who he promised to protect. For all the people he’s killed in these air strikes, for all the people he _couldn’t_ save, for all the people he did save. He cries for Samone and Patrice, not knowing where the other is or if they’re alive.

At some point, he runs out of tears and the static in his head is replaced by pounding and soft whispering. Jack. That’s Jack’s arm around him, Jack’s voice whispering softly that _it’s okay, it’ll be okay_. Gabe turns and buries his face in Jack’s neck and he can feel the man sink into him, and if Jack cries, Gabriel wouldn’t judge him. They sit on the floor for God-knows how long before Gabe mumbles out something about his back and old age. Jack laughs and they haul themselves up and into bed.

Gabe’s kisses linger longer, that night. Jack holds him a little tighter. They don’t talk about it.

A year after they start, Jack’s bunk is filled with another soldier. Chain of Command knows it’s unused, no reason to not add more bodies to this seemingly useless fight. Gabe’s face is hard to challenge, and they won’t do it. He sports new scars across his nose, a nasty swipe from an omnic. One cuts his upper lip, giving him a permanent scowl; rebar got him after an explosion. Jack says it makes him look mysteriously handsome. Gabe thinks it’s just another thing the omnics have taken from him.

Nothing’s getting better; few cities still stand, and those that do are almost deserted. The colonel comes to Gabe with blueprints of a new organization. _Overwatch_ . “ _Soldiers. Scientists. Adventurers. Oddities”_. A tagline like it was some sort of new supermarket opening down the street. They want to put Gabe in charge—SEP made his mind sharp, but he’s a natural born leader, the colonel says. Gabe swells with pride, and Jack nearly swoons over that genuine grin. He joins as well, the only other supersoldier on base, and the only one on the continent.

Overwatch is formed, and  Jack and Gabe are moved to the new headquarters in Switzerland. It’s a cold, wet day when they make it to base. Gabe hates the cold, and purposefully steals Jack’s best gloves. They fit shoddy at best, but they’re furlined and warm. They’re given separate quarters, just for face, but they share a bed every night regardless. Gabe’s office sits on the other side of the base in a complex that looks more like a corporate office park than a military base. He doesn’t mind.

Being in bed with Jack every night, able to throw an arm over him and kiss him… Gabe thinks he could get used to this. But he can’t. Not until this ends, then he can sleep better at night—though he never slept well to begin with.

Overwatch turns the tide of the war. A few months after the founding, they meet a sniper from the Egyptian army named Ana Amari. She’s got a real gift, and the three are fast friends. With Gabe’s spec op, Jacks tactics, Ana’s recon they figure out where to God AIs are: omniums. A haven for omnics, now the center of their demise. Almost poetic, really. The figure out the weakness: EMPs straight to the cores, firewalls and antivirus installed inside. They can contain the AIs, they can end the war.

Halfway through their second year, the strike team has grown significantly. They get one of the last Crusaders, the only left of the German army after the government wiped Eichenwalde off the map. One of the most amazing engineers comes from Sweden, though he and Gabriel don’t get along well. A few others, and Gabe counts them all as his closest friends (even if he doesn’t say it).

The Omnic Crisis only lasts three years, but it feels like a lifetime. It doesn’t end in a heroic, defeat the bad guy style battle, but with the last omnium going down, and the last of the units falling where they stand. The whole world goes quiet for a day. The party is a boisterous affair, alcohol and food and stories of the  _ good _ times of the war. Gabe doesn’t join them. Instead, he sits on the couch next to Jack, staring at his scarred knuckles while the blonde next to him makes easy conversation with everyone around. He was always good at that.

But Gabriel can’t shake the blood on his hands, the weight on his shoulders of all those people he couldn’t save, those he may have killed. He almost thinks Jack doesn’t notice, what with how carefree he is, but the occasional squeeze of his knee and glance makes Gabe feel… safe. More human, less monster. 

  
Jack lets him sleep without any questions that night, and life continues on. Jack’s named the Strike-Commander and Gabriel pretends it doesn’t leave a sour taste in the back of his throat.  It’s months before Gabe can even begin to talk about the omnic crisis, even to the base therapist, but Jack has always had a way of prying information from him. Overwatch continues, flourishes. Even if he doesn’t.


End file.
